


Sir

by PipBoi3000



Category: FAHC - Fandom, Rooster Teeth, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: fahc origin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 04:14:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10428861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PipBoi3000/pseuds/PipBoi3000
Summary: Every good crew starts somewhere. It just so happened that these pairs collided in a dingy bar...But of course that was all a part of HIS plan.





	

**Author's Note:**

> speedy little one-off with, i'm sure plenty of mistakes since it was written on my phone during a rather tedious road trip. I have been toying with this idea for a while and am so happy i finally got it on paper! I would love to her what you think! Illustrate this and I will be your slave for life xx

Michael was wary of the note the waitress left on the table. Ray looked at him sharply above his glass, but the two knew better than to react. They had been running with each other for just over a year now. Brothers in arms, thick as thieves, two underdogs against everything but each other. They weren’t even a gang…Just a pair. They called themselves the No-Names. But despite that, they WERE starting to make a name for themselves. Ramsey would know them one day even if that day wasn’t today…   
But even small-time criminals new to be wary of folded notes.  
Michael was the one to pick it up. He didn’t let his hands shake as he unfolded it and his eyes made short work of the neatly printed words.  
Ray looked at him, hard. Michael got up, silent. The other man followed him without question, pausing only to down his drink.

“Private room four. Up the stairs and hard left. Tell the bouncer ‘Sir’ sent you.”

There had been no name. No symbol, no letter…Nothing. But the note wasn’t a question. It was a demand.

The bouncer raised an eyebrow at the scruffy red hair and the purple hoodie but when Michael said “We were requested....Sir?”  
he looked impressed and stepped to one side.   
The boys knew the second they stepped into the room, they had made a mistake. Four men sat at the table. Every one of them made the bouncer look like a school boy. All of them wore black, their weapons displayed freely…All that is, except the man at the head of the table. Wearing a blue and black motorcycle jacket banded in silver, his face contorted by black and red faceprint; marred and rancid. A boy in gold sat alluringly across his lap like some sort of exotic cat, one of the painted man’s hand on his thigh, giggling as Michael and Ray entered. Overall, the man at the head of the table was easily the most menacing individual the boys had ever laid eyes on. There was no doubting they had just met Sir.

“Mister Jones, Mister Narvaez…” His voice was low but oddly warm. His words however, sent a cold chill down the boys spines. How did he know this much about them…What ELSE did he know?  
“Care to play a round with us?”  
They couldn’t say no. Michael nodded, minutely to Ray and they both pulled out chairs, facing the thugs. Michael could hold his own in these games but Ray…Ray was going to keep them alive. It was always surprising how many cards could fit up the sleeves of his hoodie.  
“Wonderful….So kind of you to join us. And such short notice.” They boy in his lap giggled again, flinging his arms around Sir’s neck and nuzzling up to him, glittering in the seedy light. But no matter how gold, no one was looking at the lapdog.

Cards were dealt and Michael felt sick. He had never seen a worse hand….Until he looked at Ray’s. But Ray had one hell of a pokerface and he didn’t so much as swallow as the game commenced. Cards were seamlessly slipped in and out of sleeves, Ray not even blinked as his fingers moved like lightening. But it was hopeless. Somehow their cards just kept getting worse. Michael could feel panic rising from his best friend. They were almost out of time and God help whoever didn’t impress Sir.

Then there was that giggle again, rising into a fully-fledged laugh, much louder than before. Michael glanced to Sir, terrified of what he would do to his little pet for being so disruptive. But instead, the boy in gold swung himself neatly from Sir’s lap and stood, throwing down a full house of kings, ignoring how the men around him cowered.  
“Come on Ryan, lets stop teasing these poor boys…Although, the redhead suits terror.”The educated British accent was jarringly out of place. The boy winked and Ray and Michael exchanged confused looked.  
“You were given a loaded deck you silly sausages. I wanted to see how hard you’d play to put on a good show…And didn’t they do well, Ryan?”  
The man in face paint smiled and in that low sweet voice said “They certainly did, Sir.”


End file.
